


Heat

by 19_empty_vacancies



Series: Content Hums and Clothes Sharing [2]
Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Post Chokes, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 13:51:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16517714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/19_empty_vacancies/pseuds/19_empty_vacancies
Summary: When it gets hot, Howard wears Vince's shirts.





	Heat

When the heat of summer rolls in and humidity causes everything to feel like it's coated in a layer of slick, like you can feel every individual particle of your skin; then is when Howard starts incorporating some of Vince’s clothes into his regular rotation. He digs through the mountains of colourful fabrics in the hunt for those floaty shirts that make him feel like he’s wearing nothing but air. Like he’s wrapped in nothing but the scent of Vince.

Warm days where all Howard can concentrate on is the heat radiating off of seemingly everything and even _looking_ at his corduroy makes him break into sweat; where even the idea of having to put on clothes before heading down to the shop causes some kind of placebo effect, makes him feel like his body temperature is rising to dangerous heights. It’s this feeling which usually leads to his rifling through the various patterns and quietly plucking out the softest, lightest shirts and pulling them on.

Tucked beneath the thin sheet on the bed, diagonal where he'd previously laid atop Howard and face mostly buried in his pillow, Vince watches this morning dance through still bleary eyes. His body filled to the brim with a bubbling sense of content. He likes that Howard is comfortable going through and wearing whatever outrageous outfit of his which he deems fit for the day’s needs.

He likes the little dance Howard does of pausing in front of the full mirror Vince hung on the wardrobe door and posing to see if he looks as comfortable as he feels or if he looks like a right tit who is trying too hard. Sometimes he’ll let out a hum at the way fabrics stretch across his shoulders and he’ll carefully take the garment off because he’s broader than Vince and any wrong move could split the delicate shirts. When that happens, and he turns to hang it on the bulging rack, Vince will uncurl slightly and stretch out on his tummy. As if the slight reach will bring him that bit closer to Howard’s tempting back.

Sometimes Vince will speak up, will let Howard know that he’s had another breakthrough on the sewing machine and has made him another jumpsuit, something suitable for the weather and for showing off those great Northern pins he’s so proud of; that it’s draped over your desk chair. Howard always lights up at the gifts, small smiles tucked away beneath that mocha of a moustache as he runs his fingers over the new clothing before changing into it. When that happens, he doesn’t even investigate the mirror, just turns to Vince on the bed and asks how he looks. Vince will sit up and appraise him. Sometimes it works perfectly; “Look like a dream, ‘Oward,” and other times Vince will frown at the way he can tell that its pinching and is uncomfortable; “Not perfect yet, I’ll fix it for you.”

Days where they have nowhere to be, Howard will pluck up whatever t-shirt is lying about and pull it on as he heads out to make them tea and Vince will have his eyes stuck on the strip of tummy that his shirts don’t cover; summer heat fevered thoughts will addle him as he imagines leaving a trail of marking bites and slick kisses over the exposed skin; claiming and possessive.

Sometimes Vince will follow him out of bed, he’ll grab one of Howard’s thin and sinfully soft Hawaiian shirts and slip it on as he scrapes his sweaty hair away from his neck into a bun, and he’ll pad into the kitchen and sit at the table to watch Howard move about. Will listen as he talks about changes in pressure fronts most likely leading to afternoon storms and what he thinks they could do that day.

Vince doesn’t really have a preference for the weather or how it affects their clothing, mostly he just likes the content hum that vibrates behind his ribs whenever he thinks about the fact that he has this. Howard in the kitchen, quietly mumbling plans for them, both of them happy.

Both of them still together.


End file.
